


Domestic Insubordination

by junko



Series: Scatter and Howl [20]
Category: Bleach
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, M/M, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-31
Updated: 2015-05-31
Packaged: 2018-04-02 06:22:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4049488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/junko/pseuds/junko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was one little reflexive shove; the consequences are vast.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Domestic Insubordination

The guards might not have slowed when they saw Renji, but they stopped dead the second they recognized Byakuya. 

“Uh, Captain, sir?” the leader of the patrol from the Sixth was their Eighteenth Seat, Bachiko Mura. She was a small compact black woman with short cropped, steel grey hair. Coming to a screeching halt in front of the captain, she quickly sheathed her sword. She glanced at Renji’s raised hands curiously and asked, “What’s the situation, Taicho?”

“There’s no situation,” Byakuya said. 

Everyone swiveled their heads to stare at the giant hole in the shop shutters. 

“I tripped,” Byakuya said.

“That’s what they always say,” came an unfamiliar male voice beside Renji. 

Renji turned, automatically reaching for Zabimaru. Instantly he found himself locked in an expert chokehold. His arms were pinned by someone else—or maybe two someone elses. Renji focused on staying cool, relaxing into their grip. No one had tried to take Zabimaru, so he managed to bite back an ‘Oi!”

“I’m Yuudai Anno, Tenth Seat from the Ninth Division,” came the smooth, cultured voice at Renji’s ear, “And, I do believe this is our jurisdiction. Stand down, Sixth.”

The Ninth. Shit. Well, they were right enough about their jurisdiction. The Sixth had regular Rukongai patrols, but the only true arresting authority Renji’s people had inside the Seireitei were within the division itself, the estate and its walls. They were granted it when called up for the occasional special detail, but this wasn’t one of those times. So Renji nodded to his people. They stepped back, but didn’t disperse. 

A woman from the Ninth approached Byakuya and gestured for him to step off to the side with her, “A quiet word, Captain Kuchiki?” She glanced at the lingering soldiers, “Perhaps a private one?”

Byakuya nodded, waving the Sixth away. “Return to your duties.”

“Hai, Taicho!” The half dozen of them snapped precise, respectful bows and jogged back in the direction they came, quickly disappearing into the darkened streets towards the Division’s gates. 

With the arrival of the Ninth, lights inside the upper floors of the homes and shops flicked off sharply.

The arm around Renji’s throat tightened. “And you, you piece of shit, you can come with us over here for a little chat of our own,” Anno snarled a whisper in Renji’s ear. 

The fuck? As the group of them manhandled Renji into the shadow of a nearby shop’s overhanging eave, Renji couldn’t help but drag his feet. He didn’t like the look of this at all and his reiatsu flared with a snarling growl. 

“Oi, oi,” cautioned Anno. “Keep cool, dude. We’re just giving your boyfriend space so he can tell his story without you looming over him. Shizu is going to try to talk some sense into him, but since he isn’t likely to press charges, I figure you and me will have a quiet little man-to-fist discussion about how decent people treat their precious friends.”

Great, they had this pegged as a domestic with Renji as the aggressor.

Renji snorted a dark chuckle, because of the irony. Plus, this Anno character could have been from the Eleventh with that logic: _I’m going to beat the shit out of you to teach you not to beat the shit out of people_. Even so, Renji felt the need to grumble, “I ain’t the one who raised my hand first.”

“Sure, pal. Asked for it, did he?” Anno asked, as he slid out from behind Renji. The other two shinigami pressed Renji’s back up against something solid. Renji grit his teeth and let them push him. He still didn’t fight them, even when they positioned him just so—in a way that would make it nice and easy for Anno to work Renji over. 

Which was kind of a joke. What did Anno say he was? Ninth Seat? Tenth? _Yeah, good luck with this, buddy_ , Renji thought. This bastard’d be lucky to leave a bruise.

When he came to stand in front of Renji, Renji checked him out. Anno was a moderately handsome man—long black hair tied back into a single braid that fell nearly to his ass. He didn’t share Hisagi’s sleeveless style, so his uniform was unaltered and unadorned. But, he had a bit of facial jewelry that seemed a bit ‘punk’—three eyebrow rings over the right eye and a white stone nostril stud that sparkled in the lantern light like a diamond.

Anno cracked his knuckles, also giving Renji a measuring look as he did. Something he saw must have made his bravado falter, because, he took in a hissing breath. Then, he stepped in close and pushed Renji’s hair from his forehead. He stared at the tattoos in horror for a second, and then jumped back as though trying to get out of striking range, despite the fact that his men still held Renji securely.

He glanced at Zabimaru as if it confirmed something and demanded: “Abarai? You’re Lieutenant Renji Abarai? And that’s Captain Byakuya Kuchiki?” Before Renji could confirm his identity and Byakuya’s, Anno said to one of his men, “Send a butterfly to the lieutenant immediately. This situation just escalated to….” he stumbled again, and turned to Renji. “What the hell is this? From where we were and what we heard, this had domestic written all over it. That’s your captain, you fucking moron. What the hell are you doing tossing him through a window?”

“Jeez, Anno,” the guy to Renji’s right said once he’d sent off the butterfly he’d summoned. “Where the hell have you been? This isn’t the first time for them. Abarai leveled half the Seireitei trying to murder his captain before.”

“Murder? Oi, I was the bloody—“ Renji started.

But, Anno interrupted him with a sharp, “What? Why aren’t you in the Maggot’s Nest? Or fried up there on Sokyoku Hill?” Anno waved behind him where the very tip of jutting hill could be seen over the walls of the estate.

“That phoenix thing got broke, sir,” said the guy on the left.

Anno let out an exasperated sigh at his soldiers. “Thank you for that bit of information, Captain Obvious,” he said sarcastically. Stepping closer to Renji, he asked, “So what do you have to say for yourself, Abarai?”

Renji tried to shrug. The guys hanging on to him messed up the gesture, so he said: “I got nothing. It ain’t my call. It’s my captain’s.”

“Oh, hey, look at you, being all law-abiding when it suits you,” sneered Anno. “’Tripped’ he said,” Anno recalled. “Man, you got that pretty captain of yours wrapped around your little finger somehow, don’t you? Oh, I see. You’re fucking him, aren’t you?”

Renji was glad the darkness hid his reaction, because he could feel an instant blush heating his cheeks. “Hey, now,” Renji started, but again Anno interrupted him.

“So this _is_ a domestic,” Anno said with a sudden, almost gleeful realization, “ _And_ insubordination. Damnation. I guess we are going to get to test Captain Muguruma’s mettle finally, boys. Wonder what he’ll make of this.”

The woman came over—Shizu?—and said, “I hope you finished your ‘chat,’ sir, because, as usual, the Missus isn’t giving over.”

Missus? “Oi! Show some respect,” Renji shouted. “That’s Captain Kuchiki to you lot.” 

“Yeah, exactly,” Anno told her with a sidelong glance at Renji. “Our bruiser here is none other than Lieutenant Renji Abarai, Captain Kuchiki’s direct subordinate. And they have a history. This is out of our pay grade. I’ve called our lieutenant.”

Shizu nodded at Renji, “Hiya, Renji. Didn’t recognize you with your shirt on and your hair down,” she said like she knew him. Then, she shook her head and crossed her arms in front of her chest. “Well, he’s still going to walk, sempai. Hisagi is a Academy buddy of Renji’s.”

Anno laughed ruefully. “Man, I bet you think you’ve got this in the bag, huh, Abarai?”

Renji, meanwhile, was trying to figure out where Byakuya had gone. The woman, Shizu, seemed to imply he wasn’t pressing any charges, so where’d he go? He strained to see over everyone’s heads and through the darkness. 

Anno grabbed Renji’s jaw and wrenched it to face him, “Hey, I’m talking to you.”

Renji gave a small surge of reiatsu and twisted out of his grip, “Oi, get your fucking hands off me. Where’s Captain Kuchiki?”

“Apologizing to the store owner whose shutters you fucked up, because, fuck,” Shizu said, looking like she wanted to spit in Renji’s face, “He’s still making out like it was all his fault. He even says to me, ‘I shouldn’t have said the things I did’ and, here’s a new twist, he goes, ‘I’m too hard on him.’”

The Ninth either shook their heads and groaned ‘typical,’ or shot Renji dirty looks. Anno cradled his hand like Renji’s little burst had actually injured him—which, Renji suddenly worried it might have, considering their power difference. Cripes, could he look more like what they thought he was.

“It’s not like that,” Renji muttered, knowing full well that he might as well add ‘I didn’t mean it’ for all they’d believe him.

“What’s going on?” Byakuya said, coming into view. “Why have you not released Renji?”

Just then a blast of wind ruffled hems and hair, as Hisagi and Captain Muguruma stepped out of shunpo. 

Despite being shorter than Hisagi, Muguruma dominated the scene the second he stepped into it. “What’s going on here?” he demanded of his soldiers. To Byakuya he nodded, “Captain Kuchiki.”

Byakuya didn’t nod or even acknowledge Muguruma. Byakuya eyes were down, but Renji could feel that his entire focus was on Renji and the men holding him. 

Anno smirked, “It’s a Domestic Insubordination or an Insubordinate Domestic. Take your pick, Captain.”

Muguruma was not amused. “Cut the crap, Tenth Seat. And pull whomever you got hidden in the shadows over there out into the light where I can see him.” The two Ninth Division shinigami did as their captain ordered and dragged Renji out from under the awning and into the road. Muguruma squinted at Renji and then asked Hisagi, “Do I know this one?”

“I don’t know, sir,” Hisagi said, “That’s Renji Abarai, Lieutenant of the Sixth.”

Muguruma frowned at Renji for a moment and then seemed to place him. Then, he glanced at Byakuya, briefly, and nodded as though putting puzzle pieces together. 

“Right, so I noticed no one answered my question about what’s going on here,” Muguruma said. Anno started to open his mouth, but Muguruma nodded in Renji’s direction and cutting him off, said, “Because I’m thinking I’m looking at a little back alley justice. Is that how things ran in the Ninth during my absence?” No one said anything, though Anno at least had the wisdom to look a little chagrined. “Fucking Soul Society, never changes,” Muguruma muttered to himself. Then, he addressed the Ninth Division soldiers again, “Listen up, kiddies. We do things by the book now-a-days, you got that?”

“Yes, sir!” the whole of the Ninth’s contingent replied.

“And what does the book say about captains and lieutenants?” Muguruma continued to grill his people. No one answered. “The book says captains get to decide if they let their lieutenants push them around or not.” Muguruma shifted his intense focus onto Byakuya, “So, Kuchiki, are you the kind of captain who tolerates this behavior from your subordinates or what?”

Cripes, putting it that way, there wasn’t really a good answer to that, was there?

“It was not insubordination,” Byakuya said without hesitation. “It was a lover’s quarrel, nothing more.”

Muguruma’s mouth dropped open, then he instantly snapped it shut. He smacked his forehead with his palm and pinched his nose, like he’d suddenly gotten a headache. “Did you just publically confess to fraternization in front of the Captain of the Ninth in his special function as commander of the military police, Captain Kuchiki?”

Byakuya said nothing. The silence was so tense that Renji could hear his heart ticking behind his ear and the harsh rasp of his breathing. The grip on his arms squeezed tighter.

“Did anyone else hear him say that? Because maybe I didn’t hear right,” Muguruma asked his soldiers. Now everyone exchanged glances, like they weren’t sure what the answer should be this time. Yes, would be the honest, by-the-book answer, but clearly Muguruma was giving Byakuya an out. “So, maybe I should ask you again, Captain Kuchiki. Is this insubordination or fraternization?”

All Renji could think was: _don’t, just don’t, just don’t admit to anything more_.

Muguruma waited for about ten more seconds. He tapped his foot the entire time and checked an invisible watch. When Byakuya said nothing, he let out an exasperated sigh. “Fine. We’ll let the Soutaicho sort this mess out. Captain Kuchiki, I’m arresting you for fraternization; Lieutenant Abarai, you’re under arrest for insubordination. Hisagi, you’re on the lieutenant; I’ll escort the captain.”

Hisagi murmured something to which Muguruma shouted, “Both of them captain level? For fuck sake, then take the patrol with you!”

#

“I haven’t exactly resisted,” Renji pointed out, when they brought out the manacles. “Can’t you spare me a little indignity? I got to walk past my own gate there.”

Hisagi frowned and signaled for them to be put away. Anno shot Renji a sneer and mouthed, “One,” like he was counting the things Renji was getting away with.

Meanwhile, behind them, where Muguruma had moved off with Byakuya, Renji could hear Muguruma’s gruff, “What _am_ I supposed to do with the twenty-eighth clan head then?”

Renji turned to try to see what was happening. Near the broken shop window, Byakuya stood ramrod straight, his whole body language screaming noble privilege and haughtiness. The effect might have been more powerful with the kenseikan or the Captain’s haori, because the casual-for-him silks and unbound hair made him seem more like a petulant child next to Muguruma’s tough guy buzz cut. 

Even though, somehow, Byakuya was taller.

Whatever Byakuya said in response to Muguruma’s question was too low for Renji to hear, but Muguruma seemed to consider it. He scratched the back of his neck and said, “Eh, all right, I guess that’s reasonable, but don’t think I’m not reporting this to Soutaicho. That’s my honor on the line.”

Renji felt Hisagi’s arm on his elbow, tugging him to get going. “They’ll work it out,” Hisagi said quietly. “Captain Muguruma is a decent guy. He’ll do what’s right.”

“Excuse me if I don’t trust your judgment on a guy’s sense of justice,” Renji snarled, jerking his arm out of Hisagi’s grip. There was a collective hissing intake of breath and several of the soldiers from the Ninth took a step forward as though ready to pound the shit out of Renji again. He would have added a few more choice observations about their own behavior, except that he happened to catch a momentary expression on Hisagi’s face. For a split second, he looked… devastated, grief-stricken. All of a sudden Renji remembered that Hisagi had killed Tōsen with his own hands. 

“Ah, shit, Shuu,” Renji said, “That was uncalled for. I’m sorry. Look, it’s been one of those nights I say crap without thinking and hurt people I care about. I just want to know what’s going on with my captain before I go with you guys.”

Hisagi accepted the apology with a stiff nod, though he didn’t meet Renji’s eye. Then, he pulled himself together with a deep breath. Glancing up, he said, “Wait here. I’ll see what I can find out for you—“

But, before Hisagi could even turn to look for his captain, Muguruma came over to them, Byakuya in his wake. “Slight change in plans,” Muguruma said. “Captain Kuchiki is being released to his own recognizance. He’ll keep himself under house arrest at his estate until we can get some order from the Soutaicho about this mess.” There were murmurs of disapproval, until Muguruma held up Senbonzakura. Renji almost choked to see someone else’s hands on that familiar sheath. The Ninth’s grumbling turned into gasps of shock. “That’s right,” Muguruma nodded at his people’s reaction. “He voluntarily surrendered his zanpakutō, so his word is as good as fucking gold as far as I’m concerned. Besides, you guys all know he’s some kind of noble, so I’ve agreed to this compromise.”

“And Renji?” Byakuya asked.

“No, I did not agree to that,” Muguruma said with a glance over his shoulder at Byakuya. “From the report I got, a night apart for the two you would be just fine and dandy. Think of it as a cooling off period. You can make your complaints in the morning. You know we don’t have much to hold your man on. Without your say so, insubordination doesn’t hold any water. But, if this turns out to be fraternization—well, then it’s still domestic assault. We can keep him for forty-eight hours for that even without your say so.”

Byakuya glanced up and caught Renji’s gaze. Renji shrugged. He’d resigned himself to a night in the clink the second he saw Byakuya tumbling ass over teakettle into that window. Ninth, Sixth? It really didn’t matter.

“Very well,” Byakuya said. “Though the behavior of your soldiers has been far from exemplary, Captain. I will not tolerate any reports of abuse.”

“Nor will I,” Muguruma assured him. “Right, then we might as well all go together. We can drop the captain at his back door and Hisagi and I can accompany this apparently captain-level lieutenant back to the Ninth. You all,” Muguruma said to the others, “Get your asses back on duty. Anno, I’m expecting a detailed report by morning. All your T’s better be crossed and I’s better be dotted, because I’m not looking like a prat in front of the Soutaicho, you hear me?”

“Yes, sir!”

Muguruma pinched his nose again and sighed, “Right, let’s get this circus off the street.”

#

They were silent on the walk to the estate’s back door. It wasn’t much more than a half-mile, but they trudged the distance in a kind of somber pall. 

Renji wanted to say something, mostly to Byakuya, but he was afraid of saying anything that would confirm their status as a couple. Though, honestly, he wasn’t even sure what he’d say even if he had a chance. He wasn’t sorry he defended himself and he was pretty sure he was still mad about that ‘leash’ bullshit. But none of that would help matters. 

At the door, Byakuya paused. Addressing Captain Muguruma he said, “I will reiterate to you, Captain, that even charges of domestic assault are unfounded. As I told you and stated for the record, I was the one to raise my hand first.”

Renji blinked at Byakuya’s admission. Was this some kind of attempt at an apology as well?

Muguruma nodded thoughtfully. Glancing to the side, he gave Renji a long, deep, measuring look in the overhanging light of the doorway. “Well, then, it’s doubly important Abarai have some time away from you. I’m not remanding him into your custody if you’re telling me you hit him, domestically-speaking. Shit, Captain. That’s even more fucked-up. Take the night to get your house in order.”

Byakuya’s eyes narrowed dangerously. Then, he turned on his heels and disappeared through the backdoor in a huffing swirl of silks.

#

They were about three blocks from the estate when Muguruma stopped them and said, “Jesus Christ, Abarai. Do I need to ask you ‘if you feel safe at home’? I was planning on just dumping your ass in the stockade, but should we be calling a social worker or something?”

“We don’t have those in the Seireitei, sir,” Hisagi pointed out. 

“I KNOW,” Muguruma said, exasperated. “Any social worker worth their salt would fucking explode from half the shit that goes down around here. And that’s just inside the walls!”

Renji wondered what a social worker did, exactly, and whether or not he should ask Urahara or Ichigo. “I’m fine,” he said to Muguruma’s question. “I used to be in the Eleventh. I can take care of myself.”

Muguruma glanced at Hisagi, who nodded.

They’d started walking again. The plan had been to shunpo once they were clear of the Sixth’s neighborhood. Hisagi had run interference with his captain and they’d agreed to not embarrass Renji any more than was necessary, and for shunpo Renji would have to agree to manacles or let them take hold of him. But, when they reached the edge of the neighborhood, Muguruma said, “Eleventh or not, I’m not exactly thinking you’re a flight danger. Am I wrong about you, son?”

“You can trust me to meet you at the Ninth, sir,” Renji said. “I know the way.”

#

Despite all his years causing trouble in the Eleventh, Renji had never ventured very deep into the Ninth’s guardhouse before.

He’d seen the drunk tank, of course, though he’d never spent any time in it himself. The whole point of the Eleventh was to not get taken alive, as it were. So, mostly, he’d been inside to fetch miscreants. Hisagi stopped in front of the administrative desk where Renji usually talked to a secretary and signed paperwork. There, Muguruma handed over Senbonzakura and motioned to Renji to give him Zabimaru.

Renji steeled himself for the separation and dutifully pulled the zanpakutō from his obi. 

_Be good now_ , he told Zabimaru.

The only response the zanpakutō gave was a growl and hiss. 

_I don’t like it either_ , Renji reminded them. When Zabimaru refused to say anything more, Renji surrendered the zanpakutō to Muguruma’s waiting hand. 

Muguruma gave Renji a curious look. “This isn’t the Maggot’s Nest. We don’t even kidō seal them. It’s just lock and key, like you’ll be.”

Renji nodded, but his eyes still followed the secretary as he used a series of keys on a ring to pull open a long, rectangular, silken pillow lined box. In one he reverently placed Senbonzakura, locked it, and in the one right below it, he gently set in Zabimaru. 

_At least they’ll be near each other_ , Renji thought.

“Now I have to ask for your shoes and obi,” Hisagi said, regretfully, like he was embarrassed on Renji’s behalf.

But having had to give up Zabimaru, the clothes were nothing to Renji. He handed the sandals over quickly. The obi took some undoing, but at least even with it gone the ties still held the kimono top mostly in place. The hamaka, however, dropped to the floor. The Ninth’s secretary seemed prepared for this because he just took the hakama along with the obi, expertly folded and rolled, until everything fit in a little bag that he stored next to Renji’s shoes. 

Renji felt a little stupid standing around in fancy shirts without any pants, but the tails of the kimono’s shitagi covered his modesty.

After everything was stowed away, the secretary came out from around the desk and stood by a pair of big double doors painted with the kanji nine. He used the key to unlock something and then put his hand up and released a kidō lock as well. “This one seems pretty sober, sirs, are we taking him to the drunk tank or...?”

“A little further down the line this time,” Muguruma said. “Technically, it's insubordination, but he’s obviously not one of ours, so maybe aggravated assault...? Look, it’s complicated. Just mark him as a forty-eight hour hold pending charges, will you?”

“Hai, Taicho,” the secretary said, glancing over his shoulder, suddenly curious about Renji. “If you’ll follow me, sirs.”

The doors opened to the familiar drunk tank. The place stank of some kind of industrial grade disinfectant, vomit, piss, and stale beer. In the evening, the lighting was kept to a minimum; the only lanterns were situated above the two main doors. In the summer the shoji screen windows would be propped open, but in the winter things were closed against the chill. Despite the mass of warm bodies, it was still cold enough inside that Renji could feel a chill. 

Dozens of soldiers shared large, open cells. Most sat against the walls and cradled their heads or hugged vomit pots. Some paced. Some sang, some cried, and none of them had pants. The no obi rule made for some awkwardness. Renji could instantly tell the Eleventh Division guys because not only where they bruised and nearly naked, but they instantly leaped to their feet and started hurling insults at Hisagi and Muguruma. Worse, at least one of them recognized him. “Renji! Fucking bail us out, man!”

One of the guy’s buddies smacked him on the head and said, “You blind? He’s going down just like we did.”

“Bad luck, man,” the guy shouted as they passed him. 

They paused for a second at the second door, while the secretary did his key and kidō routine again. Behind him, Renji could hear mutters of “Shit, what do you suppose he did?” and “Hard time. Bummer.”

Renji was grateful when the second door finally closed and sealed behind him. The second chamber had more cells, clearly designed to hold one shinigami at a time. There was only one other soldier there, sound asleep on the cot against the wall, his arm thrown over his face.

The smell was better but the temperature was far colder. Without the heat of the mass of drunken bodies, the air was raw. If it wasn’t so dim, Renji was sure he’d be able to see his breath.

The secretary opened the first available cell, the one directly across from sleeping guy, and unlocked the bars. The sound they made as they slid open was hauntingly familiar. Renji had a brief surge of desire to run rather than step over that threshold, but he tamped it down and walked through.

The cell door slammed shut.


End file.
